


Why won’t he?

by Kerillian



Series: A Zora's Perseverence [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Control Issues, Cop Sidon, Hylian Prince Sidon, Hypersexuality, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Just Link being Underage and Hypersexual, M/M, No actual sex, Police corruption, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerillian/pseuds/Kerillian
Summary: Herein lies a couple of the first few times Sidon meets and gets to know Link, effortlessly refusing his sexual advances, and the way Link can’t handle having that trauma-born method of control taken away from him.
Relationships: Link & Prince Sidon, Link/Prince Sidon
Series: A Zora's Perseverence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763404
Kudos: 27





	Why won’t he?

**Author's Note:**

> This content may be triggering to survivors, so please take care and stay safe.

Maybe he came on strong. 

Maybe it was too early. Link reflects on his actions, and Sidon’s response to them.

“Do you seriously believe I don’t know what you’re doing here?” Sidon had said to him. 

Link was taken completely off guard.

Nobody had ever resisted his ‘act’ before - the one where he flutters his eyes and leans in close, with the _look_ he’s perfected to make men want to exert power over him, violate him and unwittingly hand control right over to him in the process. Married or single, quiet or boisterous, Link watches them get hot in the face and hot under the collar, their eyes always grow dark with unsavoury desire. It was okay for them to use him, they’d think, because in the end they all loathe him for being weak enough to be caught and corrupted.

It’s okay, because he hates them all right back.

And with that, he gets what he wants without fail. A night getting railed by a dirty cop is more than worth the freedom they give him to do what’s right. The price he pays with dignity long-forgotten to him is not even a blip in his week when he’s lost in a dying rapist’s gurgle for mercy.

Until Sidon, apparently. He was pretty green, Link could tell, but the crushing grip on his wrist was something of a rude awakening.

Link had thought he was working his magic on this man, signing short answers to his questions and finishing with a demure curl of his wrists against his chest. He took the way that Sidon didn’t appear to mind some level of physical contact like a hand on his shoulder, then his forearm and his knee, as a certain indicator that he would not brush him off should Link’s hand travel closer to his crotch. 

How wrong he was. How disappointed, too, after the initial shock he felt when Sidon grabbed his wrist and threw his hand off him. He was looking forward to fucking someone young and hot. He’d have fucked himself silly on that man’s cock, then enjoyed the benefit of having him wrapped tightly around his finger with the promise of more intense sex to follow.

But Sidon wasn’t having it.

Link really had to wonder why. Now he was just left with a sore wrist and on the receiving end of an extremely stern talking-to.

“Let me make this perfectly _clear_. If I wanted that from you then I’d ask.” The officer grimaced, “And rest assured, Link, I am never going to ask you for that.”

Link couldn’t help but let the façade of sweetness melt right off his face. 

Sidon’s response was an exclamation of disbelief.

“Good grief,” He mutters. 

Then, Link feels an unfamiliar glow of shame colour his face, which horrifies him. He does not _blush_. He flushes, sure, when he’s been running or when he’s bent over a desk (which he should have been by now), but he hasn’t been capable of recognising shame like this in a very long time.

“If you’ll excuse me, then. We’re done here. I’ll see you next month.”

Sidon gets up and leaves the room, presumably to leave the building and never return, despite his words.

Link waits a few minutes alone, fuming each second. He wanted Sidon to be gone before he walked out past the cubicles looking like this. The one thing all the pigs working in HCPD HQ turned a blind eye to would become cause to laugh at him behind their desks, because _wow, someone rejected him?_

Sufficient time having past, Link emerges from the room, and swipes someone’s cigarettes on his way out. 

He doesn’t smoke. He’s just furious.

  


* * *

  


A month later, Link does a double take when he sees a text on his phone from a number he’s not yet saved to his contacts. 

‘Just messaging you to make sure you remember our meeting in two days’ time.’ It read. 

Signed ‘- Sidon’ at the bottom. 

He hadn’t demanded to be taken off his case, apparently. Link decides this means he wants something from him now, but what?

Another text came through.

‘Would you like to meet at HQ or somewhere else? I can travel to you.’

Link scoffs. He sits up in his bed in his dark, dingey room in a dreary little house, and ponders what he’ll say to him.

Any excuse to not be in this house is a blessing. At the same time, Link has to wonder if this goody-two-shoes dickhead has finally had a change of heart. That would be a great reason to leave the house. He’s feeling touch-starved lately, especially now that the last guy has well and truly been phased out and replaced by Sidon, but he’s been too antisocial to look for a lay the way regular people do.

‘Park near my place.’ Link messages back. He provides the address, and waits for a reply.

‘Alright. I’ll see you there, same time as last meeting.’

That meant it would be in the morning. Whatever. Link would make it work.

Two days later, Link is kicking his front door down and yanking at his hair with a snarl.

It went down exactly as it had last time. Link wasn’t relying so much on his act as he was the assumption that Sidon now knew what he wanted from him - but he was dead wrong, again.

Sidon hadn’t crushed his wrist like last time, he smoothly wiped Link’s hand off his thigh. He just sighed, and looked him in the eye. 

“I would appreciate it if you would stop invading my personal space, Link.” He’d said evenly, to the point where it was patronising. It looked as though there was genuine concern in Sidon’s eyes, like he really wondered if Link had some sort of impairment he wasn’t made aware of.

Link covers his face and bites down on his lip, helpless rage boiling inside him with nowhere to go. Humiliation rakes against the inside of his skull and blooms brightly inside his chest, flooding out and meeting behind his eyes, where tears begin to manifest and pool beneath his fingertips.

“Why won’t he fuck me?” He whispers to himself.

“ _Why won’t he fuck me?_ ”

Link tips over and curls up on his ratty rug, in what could generously be described as his living room floor. 

His heart races, a high pitched hum sounds off in his ears and drowns out the sound of the birds outside.

Many minutes of this pass him by. There’s a dilation in time between the moment he lies down and the moment he finally gets up. The sunlight shining through his window has crawled from the kitchen floor and settled on his calf.

He drags himself across the floor to his bedroom and sleeps like a rock until after the sun sets, making way for nightfall.

When he wakes, he feels fresh as a daisy. 

Sidon? Who _the fuck_ is that?

There’s no shortage of people in Hyrule City who will gladly oblige Link where _perfect Officer Rutela_ refuses to. He doesn’t need a goddamn cop to fuck him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I have an art twitter @murdertriangle :))) Thank you for reading! Please kudos and (optionally) comment if you enjoyed my work. 💕


End file.
